


Five Times the Girl Gets Brought Home and One Time She Doesn't

by costumejail



Series: Blood and Water [5]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Can Be Read Seperate From the Rest of the Series, Canon-Typical Violence, Driving, Family Bonding, First Aid, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sex, Medical Procedures, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Jet Star (Danger Days), Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), Not Beta Read, Other, Pre-SING (Music Video), References to Addiction, SING (Music Video), The Fabulous Killjoys (Danger Days) Are Not MCR, The Girl is Trans!, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Vaguely Canon-compliant, Very vague references, just in one scene, pre-transition trans character, the romantic ships are pretty background/not the focus, wavehead cherri cola yknow how it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24256744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/costumejail/pseuds/costumejail
Summary: Life in the zones is always uncertain, but the Girl knows for certain that the Fab Four and Cherri would do anything to keep her safe and happy.
Relationships: Agent Cherri Cola/Kobra Kid (Danger Days), Fun Ghoul & Jet Star & Kobra Kid & Motorbaby & Party Poison (Danger Days), Jet Star/Mad Gear (Danger Days)
Series: Blood and Water [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696195
Comments: 60
Kudos: 43





	1. Party Poison

**Author's Note:**

> Some potential warnings for this chapter:  
> \- Mentions of scars  
> \- Mentions of violence  
> \- Allusions to child abuse

The first time wasn’t even bringing her home, really. Poison wasn’t even sure that the crew would let her stay. It was a harried dash across the zones, endless sky and sand and the sun beating down on all of it relentlessly. She slept through most of it, a true motorbaby even though it was her first time in a vehicle. When she asks about it, years later, Party laughs, pushes back her curls, says, “Really, ‘t was th’ easiest run I ever made. Hardest part was gettin’ you int’ th’ car seat.” 

It’s a popular bedtime story in the diner. How the Girl left the city and came to live in the diner. Before she was the Girl. When she was just a squalling seven-month-old that was too powerful to stay underground. The crew never tells her that she wasn’t really supposed to stay with them. She knows it was a kind of love at first sight. That Party took one look at her, big eyes and brown curls and one or two teeth in her wide smile, and decided that he’d do anything to keep her by his side. She doesn’t know that he hadn’t meant to keep her until he’s seen her but, really, it doesn’t make a difference. 

The first time one of the crew brings the Girl back to the diner, Party Poison is maybe twenty-three, she’s seven months old. She’s a baby that doesn’t like being restrained, the short amount of time spent with BL/ind leaves its mark on her. But once the Trans Am leaves Battery City, speeding down Route Guano with one window cracked to let in the dry air, the Girl relaxes. As long as she can remember, the Trans Am is the Girl’s favourite place to sleep. 

Even if Party claims it was a smooth run, they’ll always have the scar from a clap midway between the city and the diner. A shiny, shapeless mark stretching across most of their right thigh. They never think about it, likely don’t even remember how it was very nearly worse. How the last draculoid was speeding toward them on its bike, and probably would have reached them before they landed a shot. But it didn’t. The bike died, the drac crashed, and Poison walked away from yet another firefight. If they thought about it, they’d realize how lucky they were that the bike died when they did. 

Maybe it was a technical problem, maybe the Witch was watching over him that day. Even if Poison has stopped to thank his lucky stars, he never would have thought that the screaming baby in the passenger seat had had any effect on that motorbike. But he hadn’t. Poison was too busy thinking about the baby to think about what the baby could do. 

The first time Party Poison brings the Girl to the diner is awkward. It’s messy. It’s clumsily soothing the Girl as she gets a too-early lesson in the violence of the zones, it’s figuring out how to feed a baby while she’s balanced on the passenger seat of the Trans Am, it’s Party teaching themself how to drive with one hand as the other holds the Girl in their lap because it was just too distressing to try and get her strapped into the car seat again. 

The Girl knows that Party Poison fell in love with her the first time he saw her. She knows it like she comes to know the smell of a ray gun blast, the sting of a sunburn, the cadence of Party’s voice as he sings her to sleep. She never wonders about what it might have been like to grow up anywhere else because she knows that Party would never give her up. Not for the world. 


	2. Kobra Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Girl has a nightmare, Kobra knows exactly what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> \- Another vague reference to child abuse (the same as chapter one)  
> \- Allusions to past addiction  
> That's pretty much it!

The Kobra Kid doesn’t sleep like the rest of his family. A fear of the dark coupled with a menagerie of recurring nightmares make sleeping through the night a pain. So most nights he doesn’t even try. The crew has long accepted it, and it’s become a bit of a blessing since the Girl came to stay with them. Well, at least now that Kobra can stand to be around her.

When she came to live with them, the Girl was the youngest person Kobra had ever seen. In the city, he would have barely been an adult himself, eighteen by Party Poison’s reckoning, not that that mattered out in the zones. To the Kobra Kid, the Girl was something completely different from anything he’d had to deal with and that uncertainty left Kobra overwhelmed at the thought of taking care of such a helpless human. 

But the crew didn’t push him, they let Kobra adjust to the Girl’s presence in the diner on his own terms and before she learned to walk, she had Kobra wrapped around her finger. 

The Kobra Kid is in the main room of the diner. The sun has long set, and while normally he would be in the broadcast room listening to Cherri Cola’s poetry, tonight Cherri’s on a run and won’t be back until the morning. Kobra isn’t worried, he’s telling himself, Kobra isn’t thinking about how Cherri has only been clean for around two years and had privately admitted that sometimes he missed the unforgiving sun, and Kobra especially isn’t thinking about how every run, regardless of who takes them, carry an element of risk. Kobra’s focused on the Vend-A-Hack that Fun Ghoul had stepped on earlier that week and he’s peering closely at the wiring when a cry rises from one of the bedrooms. The cry is too high to be Party having a nightmare, and neither Jet Star nor Fun Ghoul scream like that. No, it’s the Girl. 

The Vend-A-Hack shoots sparks and Kobra drops it. On instinct, Kobra makes his way to the bedroom, the door is already open and through it, the Girl is visible. Barely two, she looks so small in the bed, even next to Ghoul. She’s screaming, thrashing on the bed, and Ghoul is staring helplessly at her, still blinking sleep out of his eyes. 

Two long steps carry Kobra to the bed, and he lifts the Girl off the bed before Ghoul even seems to notice his presence. 

“I got them,” Kobra murmurs. 

Ghoul nods and falls back on the bed. A particularly ear-splitting cry escapes the Girl and Kobra winces, half sympathy, half pain from the volume. 

Cradling the panicking Girl to his chest, Kobra bounces a bit as he steps out of the bedroom. He grabs the keys to the Trans Am off of the cluttered counter and carries the Girl out into the night. 

Once outside, the Girl calms a bit. The moon is full and bathes the desert in silver light. 

“I got you, baby. I get it,” murmurs Kobra as he unlocks the driver’s side door of the Am.

Sometimes, when the Girl wakes up like this, Kobra can simply take her to the kitchen, get a drink, and then curl up with her to listen to one of Cherri’s broadcasts until she falls back to sleep. Sometimes he’ll take her up to the roof, make up stories about the stars, and waltz up and down the rows of solar panels with her in his arms. But nights like this, when Cherri’s gone and the Girl’s screams sound just a bit too similar to Kobra’s own, they drive. 

Kobra doesn’t bother to strap the Girl into her car seat. It hadn’t taken the crew long to realize she hated the restraints. Especially tonight, neither of them has the patience to even try and navigate the straps. Kobra settles into the driver’s seat and carefully places the Girl on his lap. 

It’s hard to tell if she recognizes the Trans Am as a vehicle yet, or if just being out of the dark bedroom is helping the Girl with her night terrors, but she’s stopped squirming enough that all Kobra needs to do to keep her steady is curl one hand around her torso. 

Kobra presses the pedal to the metal and they shoot forward. Once the car is in motion, the Girl calms completely. Kobra carefully turns on the radio, just loud enough to be heard over the wind whistling through the cracked windows. 

The Kobra Kid is a crash queen at heart, a city kid dedicated to adrenaline and destined to be over before he’s begun, and the Girl is the purest motorbaby that even Dr. Death-Defying has ever seen. It’s rare for these two kinds of killjoy to see eye-to-eye, but that middle ground between them, the need for motion, that  _ ache _ to feel the wind in their hair, was what made these midnight drives a balm on the frayed nerves of the two young killjoys. 

Kobra drives through the night with no destination in mind until the Girl’s eyelids begin to droop and she lets out a massive yawn. 

“All better?” He knows that there’s no point in asking her, she’s far too young to reply, but it’s obvious from how relaxed the Girl is that whatever torment had woken her up is now far from her mind. 

Kobra stifles a yawn himself as he parks the Trans Am in front of the diner. He bundles the now-sleeping Girl back up in his long arms and carries her into the diner. While they’ve been gone, Ghoul’s moved into the other bedroom, so there’s plenty of room for both Kobra and the Girl as he settles her into the mattress and curls around her tiny body. Calm from the drive, it takes no time at all for the Kobra Kid to fall asleep, deep breaths in sync with the Girl he loves so much.

The Girl never picked favourites, but there’s an understanding throughout the diner that nothing matched Kobra and the Girl’s love for those drives. When she grew older, the drives became a catharsis for the Girl. Kobra would roll the windows all the way down and the Girl would scream her sorrows into the night air until her throat was dry, but her eyes were too.

The Kobra Kid doesn’t sleep like the rest of them. But on the nights that he and the Girl disappear into the desert, he drives faster than both of their nightmares can run and brings home a pair of kids who, just until morning, forget to be scared of the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Leave a comment or an ask at my tumblr @sleevesareforlosers.  
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Cherri Cola

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fab Four get delayed picking the Girl up from the Radio Shack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter:  
> \- Referenced violence/wounds  
> \- A very vague allusion to addiction

By the time she’s four or so, years are hard to track in the desert, the Girl knows how to hide during a clap, do up her own seatbelt in the Trans Am, and smile oh-so-innocently when she’s caught helping Jet Star with a prank. She doesn’t yet know that she’s a girl but she knows that Ghoul is most likely to sneak her an extra bite of Power Pup, that Kobra is the best at soothing her nightmares, that Party never yells when she scribbles on the diner walls with her crayons. She also knows that, when she has to spend a night at the Radio Shack with Dr. D and Show Pony, the crew will always come back for her as soon as they can. 

So when three nights pass and the sun rises on yet another day that the crew doesn’t make an appearance, the Girl knows that it can only mean one thing. And the only thing she knows to do is cry. So she cries through breakfast, cries while Dr. D is making his morning broadcast, cries at Show Pony’s best attempts to distract her from the feeling that she can’t verbalize. The feeling that the next time she sees her family they’ll be dried out and pinned to a stand of trees, gruesome figures left, as BL/ind sometimes does, to warn rebels what happens if they rebel too loudly. So she cries until the ache in her chest is matched by an ache in her head and she curls up on the couch of the station and falls into a fitful sleep. 

It’s then that Show Pony and Dr. D exchange a look and Pony dials in Cherri Cola’s radio frequency. 

“Show Pony t’ Cherri Cola,” they drawl.

“Cola here,” Cherri replies after a moment. His voice sounds rough like he’s just woken up. 

“Th’ kid’s cryin’ somethin’  _ awful, _ darlin’. Can’t get ‘em to stop, and I’m guessin’ that-”

“Shit,” Cola cuts Pony off. “Kobes hasn’t come to pick them up yet?”

“Indeed he hasn’t.”

“Okay, I’ll- I’m gonna call him and I’ll get back to you.”

A burst of static indicates that Cherri’s changed channels and Pony and Dr. D settle in to wait. They watch the Girl’s back rise and fall until less than a minute later, the radio crackles back to life. 

“He’s fine,” Cherri skips the customary opening call. “Deal fell through and Ghoul got a little shot up in the crossfire so they’re gonna be out another day.”

“The motorbaby’s not gonna like that,” Dr. D grabs the radio to warn Cherri. 

“No,” Cherri sighs. “I’m at the nest, I can be there for them in a half-hour.”

“See you soon, Cola.” Dr. D signs off and scrubs a hand over his face. 

* * *

When the rumble of Cherri’s truck announces his arrival, Show Pony and Dr. D roll to the door of the shack to welcome him in. 

“Kid’s still asleep, poor thing really cried themselves out.” Pony whispers when they hug Cherri in greeting. 

Cherri doesn’t bother replying, rushing into the shack and kneeling next to the couch where the Girl sleeps. 

“Hey, baby.” He murmurs, stroking back her hair to wake her gently. 

“Cola?”

“Yeah, s’me.”

“Where’s Kobra?” Her four-year-old pronunciation skips the “r” so it comes out as “Koba.” 

“He’s fine. They’re all fine. They’ll be home tomorrow. You want to go?”

The Girl nods, rubbing one eye sleepily as Cherri hoists her onto his hip. She’s growing fast, but the crew still carries her around like royalty when they can. 

The sunlight blinds the Girl as Cherri steps out of the shack, lifting a hand to wave goodbye to Pony and Dr. D. 

The Girl, young as she is, knows that Cherri doesn’t like the sunlight, but not the reason why, and she gasps, “It’s sunny!”

Cherri laughs a bit and nods, “Wasn’t gonna make you wait till the sun set, kiddo.”

Cherri squints against the sun as he drives, and when they reach the diner he only takes a minute to savour the late morning light before he bundles the Girl into the diner. He makes a pot of coffee for himself once inside and drinks the whole thing to keep awake, keeps the Girl company through the day and stays up the whole night too, just because that’s what he’s used to. 

Without hesitation, Cherri Cola abandons his run to comfort the Girl, fights his internal clock to keep her from feeling lonely, and the next morning, once Kobra and the rest of the Fab Four return, he doesn’t even consider complaining about his own tiredness. Cherri Cola brings the Girl home because not for a minute does he think there’s another option for him. She's too young to put any particular significance on this day, but the Girl learns something about Cherri from this. He may be the poet of the crew, but Cherri doesn’t always need his words to make sure that the Girl knows exactly how important she is to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that Cherri technically isn't part of the Fab Four BUT he's a huge part of the Girl's childhood and in my canon he lives at the diner anyway so...  
> Hope y'all liked this chapter! Let me know if you did with a comment or send an ask to my tumblr @sleevesareforlosers!  
> Thanks for reading!  
> EDITING TO ADD: The amazing @tapefish on tumblr did some art based off of this chapter and it's gorgeous and I definitely cried looking at it so [go check it out!!](https://sleevesareforlosers.tumblr.com/post/618686997230469120/tapefish-kk-so-in-this-fic-sleevesareforlosers)


	4. Jet Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Kobra Kid gets injured and can't take care of the Girl, it's up to Jet to make sure that she's okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter:  
> \- Some kinda sexual content, nothing super explicit but the first few lines are a little risque, feel free to skip them if you want!  
> \- References to injuries  
> \- References to medication (painkillers)  
> That should be it! Enjoy!

Jet Star moans, their mouth slides over Mad Gear’s cheek and they linger there for a moment, panting. Undeterred, Mad Gear begins to bite at the hinge of Jet’s jaw, causing Jet’s breath to hitch. Jet’s fingers clench on Mad Gear’s hips and they take a deep breath before pulling back. 

“Y’ shiny?” Asks Mad Gear, running a hand over Jet’s sweat-damp curls. 

“Yeah,” Jet swallows thickly, “just. Out of breath.”

“Okay.” He leans in again but stops short when a radio begins to squawk. 

“Fuck. That’s mine,” Jet rolls over to reach their radio and sits up. “Jet Star here.”

“Jet! Can you come get me?” The Girl’s voice echoes out of the transmitter. 

“Girlie? Baby, what’s wrong?” Straightening up, Jet pushes Mad Gear back from where he had been kissing a line down their neck. “Where are you?”

“Kobra took me to a derby but he crashed his bike and they won’t let me see him!” The Girl’s voice hitches and Jet blinks rapidly. “Why won’t they let me see him?”

“I don’t know, baby, is Show Pony there?”

Obviously eavesdropping, Mad Gear cocks his head in curiosity and Jet waves a hand, gesturing at their shirt where it lies across the room. 

The radio crackles again, “No, and the- the first aid people won’t let me into the tent! I wanna see Kobra and they won’t let me and I-” The Girl cuts off in a sob. 

“Hey, shhh, baby, deep breaths. I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

Jet accepts the shirt from Mad Gear and puts it on as the Girl sniffles through the radio. 

Mad Gear taps Jet’s wrist lightly, “Missy’s at the Track, I can get ‘im to keep her company.”

Gratefully, Jet nods and Mad Gear turns away, pressing a finger to the implant behind his ear. 

The radio crackles again, “But _hurry_ , Jet.”

“Wait outside the med tent, okay, sunshine? You remember Missile Kid? He’s gonna sit with you until I get there. I’m on my way. Promise.”

The Girl signs off and Jet turns back to Mad Gear. They sigh and rest their forehead against Mad Gear’s shoulder for a moment before speaking. 

“Sorry, I-”

“You gotta go, it’s okay.” Mad Gear runs a hand over his own heavily inked scalp. “Some other time.”

Jet snags Mad Gear’s hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles. “Thanks, babe.”

“Keep me posted, yeah? I told Missy where t’ find her.”

“I will.”

Jet stands and goes to leave the dim motel room, they pause at the door and look back at Mad Gear, still sitting in the rumpled blankets on the bed.

“Safe travels,” Mad Gear waves. “Say hi to Pois’ and the boys for me.”

Jet chuckles and leaves, making their way across the parking lot to their motorcycle. They strap their helmet on and start the trip to the Crash Track. 

* * *

When they arrive, the Track is empty, only one car, probably belonging to the medics, remaining. Jet parks their motorcycle outside the med tent and dismounts. The first thing they notice is Missile Kid, with the Girl on his lap. 

“Missy,” Jet calls. 

Both Missile Kid and the Girl lift their heads, the Girl jumping up and running to Jet, wrapping her arms around their legs. 

“Hey, Girlie, you alright?” says Jet, as they kneel to give the Girl a proper hug. 

The Girl buries her face in Jet’s neck and takes a shuddery breath. Jet holds her for a moment longer, wordlessly comforting her. 

“I don’t think the medics knew she’s yours,” Missile Kid speaks up, “s’prob’ly why they didn’t let ‘er in the tent.”

A swear nearly escapes Jet’s lips, “You mind sticking around while I check him out?”

Casually, Missile Kid shrugs, “Whaddya say, motorbaby? Wanna hang out with me s’more?”

The Girl tightens her grip on Jet’s neck. From the slight tremor in her arms, it’s obvious to Jet that they won’t be leaving her sight any time soon.

To the Girl, Jet says, “Okay, but you can’t look until I say so.” Jet picks the Girl up and settles her on their hip. “Thanks, Missy, but I think I’ll keep her. You got a way back to the motel?”

He nods, “’M shiny. I’ll tell Mad Gear ya got her.”

Jet claps a hand to the Missile Kid’s shoulder in thanks and opens the flap of the med tent. Obediently, the Girl hides her face in Jet’s neck as they turn towards the Kobra Kid. 

“Hey, Kobes.”

Kobra rolls his head toward Jet, keeping an ice pack pressed to his shoulder. 

“Jet Star!” His words slur almost imperceptibly and Kobra's face lights up with a grin. “My second favourite motorbaby! Thought you were busy tonight, but unless you took a couple stunners right to the jugular I guess _gettin’_ busy got interrupted. How’s Mad Gear?” Kobra waggles his eyebrows suggestively, the effect somewhat dampened by the streak of dried blood running across one cheek. Jet rolls their eyes, murmurs an okay to the Girl, and sets her down so she can sit with Kobra. 

A medic approaches Jet, “We gave him some painkillers for the sprain and there’s a, uh, minor concussion, Mx. Star.”

“I figured. Why’d you keep our kid out in the cold like that?” Jet’s normally gentle manner vanishes as they snap at the medic, “What the fuck’s that about?”

“Swear jar!” Kobra trills from the bench. 

Both Jet and the medic ignore him. 

“We didn’t know she was yours. She, uh, doesn’t look much like the Kid and we didn’t want her gettin’ in the way and, uh...” The medic trails off. 

“Whatever,” Jet pinches the bridge of their nose, “I don’t have our car, you lot have someone that can get him and his bike back to the diner?”

The medic nods their head hurriedly. 

“Great,” Jet paces over to where Kobra lies. “Okay, crash queen. I’m gonna take the Girl home, you okay with the medics driving you back?”

Airily, Kobra waves a hand. “Make sure y’tell him how cool I looked, Girlie.”

The Girl giggles, Kobra plants a hand against her face and pushes gently until she runs back to Jet. 

“See you back at the diner.” Kobra shoots a finger gun at Jet’s back as they exit the tent. 

“You got your helmet, shortstack?” asks Jet, ruffling the Girl’s curls. 

“It’s by Kobra’s bike,” the Girl runs off, and returns a moment later clutching her bright blue helmet. 

Jet mounts their bike and waits for the Girl to climb up behind them before starting the engine. 

“Hold tight.”

* * *

Halfway back to the diner, the Girl taps Jet’s arm twice, their signal to pull over. 

“What’s wrong, Girlie?” Jet lifts their visor quickly. 

“I’m sorry I called you,” mumbles the Girl, eyes fixed on the ground. 

“What? No, baby, you did the right thing.”

“But you were _busy_.” The Girl’s eyes fill with tears. 

Internally, Jet curses Kobra, “Yeah, I was. But I’m still glad you called me.”

The Girl shakes her head, twisting her hands together in the same way Fun Ghoul does. 

“Listen, kiddo. Anytime you need me, you can call me. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night or if the sun is so hot it’s melting tires to the pavement. I don’t care where you are or what I’ve been doing. If you need me, you can call me.” Jet wraps an arm around the Girl, somewhat awkwardly as she’s still on the bike behind them. “For anything. You did really well with this. Calling me, sticking as close to Kobra as you could, staying with Missile Kid. You did everything right tonight. I’m so, so, _so_ proud of you.”

“I can call you for anything?” The Girl asks softly. 

“Anything, anytime.” Jet affirms, nodding. 

“What if I can’t find my vest?”

“Yep.”

“Or what if I break one of Ghoul’s knives?”

“Yes.”

“What if I fall and twist an ankle?”

“Destroya, especially then.”

“What if Party’s trying to make me eat vegetables?”

Jet barks out a laugh, “You’re on your own for that.”

The Girl snickers. 

“Alright, troublemaker, you good to go? It’s way past your bedtime and I don’t want Pois gettin’ on my case about it.”

The Girl nods, straightening herself out on the motorcycle seat. She holds tight to Jet for the rest of the drive. 

If Jet thinks about it too hard, they get a little misty-eyed, thinking about how the Girl had been so scared and lonely and _still_ felt like she needed to apologize for asking for help. She’s been with them for five years by then, and every day Jet has emphasized that it’s okay to ask for help, to trust the family. Especially as the Girl grows older and gets exposed to more parts of the zones and the realities of living with four wanted rebels, they all do their best to protect her childish innocence. Jet knew from the first moment they held the Girl that they wouldn’t always be able to protect her from the zones and the city forever, but Witch be damned if they weren’t going to try for as long as they could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't seen, the amazing @tapefish on tumblr DREW something based off of the last chapter!! How fucking cool is that? It's beautiful and amazing and I think that everyone should go check it out [here!](https://tapefish.tumblr.com/post/618684986079526912/kk-so-in-this-fic-sleevesareforlosers-mentioned)  
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you have any thoughts, leave them as a comment here or shoot me an ask at my tumblr [ @sleevesareforlosers.](https://sleevesareforlosers.tumblr.com/ask)  
> 


	5. Fun Ghoul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun Ghoul and the Girl LOVE to make things go 'boom'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter:  
> \- Explosions  
> \- Injuries and some first aid  
> \- Mentions of past violence  
> That should be it! Enjoy!

Fun Ghoul doesn’t treat the Girl like a child. He celebrates all of her milestones the same as the rest of the crew, treasuring each new tooth and word learned. Yet, while Party Poison and Jet Star read the Girl bedtime stories and teach her to write her name, Ghoul teaches her how to fire a rocket launcher and brings her out to trade with neighbouring crews. He’ll still soothe her nightmares and wipe away her tears, but Fun Ghoul knows better than any of the other crew members how fast you have to grow up in the desert. Frequently, after the Girl had gone to bed, the rest of the crew would stay up, arguing about if there was a good middle ground between preparing the Girl for life in the zones and realizing that she was still barely seven, and should be allowed the childhood that none of them had. 

While they’re yet to come to an agreement on that particular subject, everyone can agree that one of the Girl’s favourite activities is being allowed to make things go ‘boom’. The Girl jumps at any chance she gets to help Ghoul build, test, trade, and just generally play with bombs. When she was younger, this was mostly limited to Ghoul explaining which chemicals reacted with which other ones the best, or letting her strip wires, although never the ones which could lead to an accidental detonation. By the time she was seven, or so, the Girl loved to go with Ghoul when he made trips to other strongholds to trade bombs. So when Ghoul tells the occupants of the diner that he’s making a trip to Zone Three, he’s barely finished his declaration before the Girl slides into the room, boots tied, and ready for the run.

A normal trade involves Ghoul explaining the explosives to whatever crew he’s trading with, and then either him or the Girl setting off a blast as a demonstration. This time, though, Ghoul barely gets halfway through his spiel before the crew leader cuts him off.

“We’ll take ‘em.”

“You don’,” Ghoul blinks, surprised, “wanna see ‘em in action?”

“No,” exclaims the other ‘joy roughly. “Relish, pack ‘em up.” A short killjoy nods and begins to heft the box of explosives towards their car. “Sorry, Fun Ghoul, but we got places t’ be, dracs t’ dust, y’know how it is.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks f’r th’ gas, call me when ya run outta bombs.”

Once the other crew has disappeared into a cloud of dust, Ghoul turns to the Girl. “Well, Girlie, what’d’ya say? Time t’ head home?”

“I wanna blow shit up!” 

“‘F course y’ do.” Ghoul pretends to consider this for a moment, “I _guess_ we did drag this demo all th’ way out here.”

Jumping up and down, the Girl grabs the detonator out of Ghoul’s vest pocket. He turns to grab at her, but the Girl dances out of Ghoul’s reach and puts a finger on the switch.

“Wait, Girlie we gotta get outta the bl-”

The bomb goes off.

Ghoul doesn’t know how long he’s out before he blinks awake. There’s a smoking crater where the bomb had been sitting and when he touches his forehead, his hand comes away black with soot. Ears ringing, Ghoul takes a minute to come back to himself. Why had he been setting off bombs from such a short distance? Then it hits him. He _hadn’t_ been the one to set the bomb off. Ghoul shoots to his feet, ignoring how his elbow protests when he pushes off the ground with it. He scans the sands and, ten feet away, sees the Girl crumpled on a dune.

“Girlie!” 

As fast as he can manage it, Ghoul scrambles to the Girl and crashes to his knees. Careful not to jostle her neck, Ghoul rolls the girl onto her back and feels for a pulse. Her pulse is strong and Ghoul lets out his breath all at once, his eyes fill with tears and he blinks them away just as quickly. Miraculously, the Girl looks unharmed, just covered in cinders. Blood drips onto the Girl’s face and Ghoul wipes it away before realizing that the blood is his own.

Ghoul prods gently at his cheek where it feels hot and his hand comes away covered in blood. At his knees, the Girl gasps and opens her eyes.

“Ghoul?” It comes out as a whisper, and Ghoul’s heart _aches_ to hear the Girl sound so small. “You’re bleeding.” She tries to sit up, but Ghoul places a hand on her chest and keeps the Girl on the sand.

“Don’ move, I gotta check your neck. You got thrown pretty far.”

As Ghoul quickly examines the Girl’s neck and head, she asks, “What happened?”

“You don’ remember?”

The Girl shakes her head.

“Don’ worry about it, baby. We’re fine.” Ghoul finishes looking over the Girl’s torso and moves on to her legs. “Can y’ feel your feet?”

A little unsteadily, the Girl nods. Ghoul can see her toes wiggle in her boots and he breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Alright, let’s get a move on. I think ya hit your head an’ we shou-” The Girl stumbles as Ghoul helps her to her feet. He catches her and takes in the sight of the burn stretched across the back of her calf. The skin is red, cracked in places, dotted with sand and shrapnel, and, as the Girl moves, blood trickles out of the deepest cracks. “Fuck. _Don’t_ say ‘swear jar’ right now.”

Quickly, Ghoul gathers the Girl up in his arms and carries her to the Trans Am. He grabs the first aid kit and, periodically pausing to wipe the blood trickling from his own face, begins to clean the burn. The Girl hisses as he removes pieces of charred metal and cloth.

“I know, baby. ‘M sorry. Here,” Ghoul reaches into the passenger seat and hands the Girl her radio. “Call Jet and tell ‘em to run by Doc’s and pick up burn cream.”

The Girl haltingly relays the information to Jet Star, who sounds only half-joking when they tell her that she’s grounded. As far as distractions go, the call is a pretty good one, until Ghoul tries to dig out the biggest piece of shrapnel.

A cry escapes the Girl’s lips, causing Ghoul to go perfectly still.

“It’s th’ last thing, motorbaby.”

She nods and clenches her hand into a fist.

“Deep breath. ‘M gonna get it out on three.” Ghoul adjusts his grip on the tweezers and counts out loud. “ _One_ -” He pulls, and the shrapnel comes out smoothly. The Girl lets out an impressive string of curses and blood oozes out of the wound, but Ghoul presses a bandage to it and the flow stops shortly.

Tears stream down the Girl’s face, “You _lied._ You sai- You said three an- and you pulled on _one._ ”

Keeping a firm hand on the bandage, Ghoul leans up to press a kiss to the Girl’s forehead. “An’ it’s over now, okay? ‘M sorry I lied t’ you, y’know I wouldn’t unless it’s for th’ best.”

The Girl sniffles and nods. “ _Hurts.”_

“I bet. But y’did really well. What’d’ya say we head home? Bet if ya ask _real_ nice then Ch-Jet might read y’ some more of tha’ book you’ve been workin’ on.” 

Internally, Ghoul curses himself for almost slipping up and forgetting that Cherri Cola had vanished. The Girl had cried for weeks when they realized he wasn’t coming back, and the Kobra Kid had retreated so far into himself that the only person he would even look at was Poison. Ghoul himself had been completely blindsided that after roughly eight years in the diner, Cherri would just up and leave them all, without even a word. No amount of combing the zones had turned up even a hint of where Cherri had gone, but Kobra adamantly refused to let them deposit Cherri’s mask into the mailbox.

Movement from the Girl brings Ghoul’s attention back to where it needs to be. She pushes herself up on her hands and Ghoul carefully helps her into the passenger seat.

“Keep up th’ pressure on tha’, I don’ wanna wrap it ‘fore we get some cream for ‘t.”

Nodding, the Girl presses a hand to the bandage that covers the deepest cut and Ghoul does up her seat belt before climbing into the driver’s seat himself. The cut on Ghoul’s cheek has mostly stopped bleeding on its own, but at the Girl’s insistence, Ghoul tapes a bandage over it before starting to drive.

A couple minutes later, Ghoul sneaks a glance at the Girl as she stares vacantly out the windshield.

“Y’feeling okay, half-pint?”

“‘Membering…” She trails off.

“Watcha ‘membering?” Carefully, Ghoul reaches out and grabs the Girl’s hand. He rubs his thumb over her knuckles and waits for her response.

“I set off the bomb.” She looks over at Ghoul, “This was _my_ fault.”

“Oh, babygirl.” A sigh escapes Ghoul’s lips, “th’ blame game doesn’ help anyone.”

“But I-”

“Hey now. ‘Member when Kobes ran over my foot with ‘is bike? Or Jet dropped tha’ jar ‘f spiders int’ your sleeping bag? One time I knocked out one’a Pois’s teeth. Shit,” Ghoul whistles, and then considers if he should even tell the Girl this story, “Firs’ time Cherri was at th’ diner he freaked out an' choked Kobes an’ I so hard we both got bruises all ‘round our necks. Point is,” A lump rises in Ghoul’s throat and he swallows thickly. “Shit happens, ’m fine, you’re gonna be fine. We jus’ gotta keep runnin’.”

“Keep runnin’.” The Girl repeats.

“But uh, maybe don’ tell Pois I let you that close t’ an armed bomb, yeah?”

A giggle bubbles out of the Girl and she nods, “Our secret.”

“That’s my girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter left now! Hope y'all have been enjoying the fic so far. If you have, let me know with a comment or an ask sent to my [tumblr!](https://sleevesareforlosers.tumblr.com/ask)  
> 


	6. +1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BL/ind finally catches up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter:  
> \- Kidnapping  
> \- Allusions to first aid  
> \- Loose descriptions of injuries/blood  
> \- A little bit of brainwashing  
> \- Violence  
> \- Death  
> That's it! Enjoy!

In the end, they don’t bring her home. 

The rest of the Fab Four wake, aching, from a clap with Korse and see Party, sitting defeated, in the sand. He tells them that the exterminator Korse took the Girl and breaks down crying. Wordlessly, they know where the Girl is and they know that they’re going to go get her. Ghoul patches Jet up as best as he can, they’d lost an eye in the clap, but really, it’s a rushed job because all either of them can think about is their Girl, alone in Battery City.

They leave their masks with Dr. D and pile into the Trans Am. It’s nothing like their usual drives, ones when they roll the windows down and blare music. The crew all stare straight ahead and no one talks the whole way to the city. There’s no hesitation in Party’s grip on the steering wheel as they drive straight through the tunnels and into the city, they don’t pause to chit chat with the Juvee Hall posted at the security checkpoint, don’t even slow to wait for the gate to lift. The car has barely come to a stop in front of BL/ind HQ, in the heart of the city, before the doors open and the Fab Four pile out, matching expressions of determination carved onto their faces.

They storm the tower like they’ve been planning it for years. Even missing an eye, Jet doesn’t miss a shot and blasts ring through the night as they mow down draculoids and S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W’s alike. It’s almost enough to have the crew feel optimistic. No alarms go off, the tower seems empty except for basic security and maintenance. The first BL/ind employee they see that they  _ don’t _ immediately blast is wearing a nametag that reads “Gary Levko” and the face of Cherri Cola.

Kobra drops his gun with a cry and runs at the worker, but the worker backs away, hands raised, and at once the crew realizes that Cherri, or Gary, whoever he is, doesn't recognize them. It takes all three of the other ‘joys to drag Kobra away from the man who used to love him, and when they reach the far end of the hallway, Ghoul turns around just in time to see Gary reaching for an alarm. Bells ring, lights flash, and the Fab Four have no choice but to leave without their former crewmate. 

In a daze, Party leads them through the building he used to work in and they find the Girl. Party drops to his knees and holds her tight, pouring a lifetime’s worth of love into their embrace. The Girl hugs him back, squeezing as tightly as she can. When he lets go, the Girl grasps Party’s hand and leads the crew down a hallway. They end up in the foyer of the tower before the agents summoned by the alarms make their appearance.

With the kind of unity that you can only get from watching each other’s backs for so many years, the Fab Four begin to take down dracs as fast as they can. The Girl freezes, watches her family become surrounded by S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W’s. She sees Party grab the mask off of a drac, revealing a face that the Girl has never seen, but Party knows like a sister. Party’s eyes widen as they recognize Alexa. The same Juvee who had been so important to getting the Girl out of the city all those years ago. She falls to the ground, and Party freezes, one hand gripping their gun, the other still holding Alexa’s mask. In their distraction, Party doesn’t notice the exterminator approaching. He knocks Party off of their feet and kicks them in the ribs, hard. Party looks for the Girl and, when they see her, they reach one hand out. From across the room, the Girl can’t hear Party, but she watches their lips form a single word. 

“Run.”

Then he’s being hauled up by the collar and backed against a wall, Korse moves like he has all the time in the world. As he presses into Party’s space, an almost pitying smile splits his skeletal face. Korse lifts his gun to Party’s chin and whispers something that only the two of them can hear. Without shifting his smile one bit, Korse pulls the trigger and sends a blast of plasma through the killjoy’s jaw. The Girl closes her eyes and screams. A shower of sparks falls from the ceiling. She doesn’t see Party collapse to the ground. She doesn’t see Korse step back and leave the room with a satisfied grin. She claps her hands over her ears as she cries out in anguish. 

Kobra has his eyes open the whole time. His sibling’s name rips it’s way out of Kobra’s throat as Party crumples, the sound of Kobra's pain hasn’t died before Kobra, too, is falling to the ground. Blood spreads from under his jacket and Jet almost slips in it as they rush to the Girl’s side. They clench the Girl’s hand in their own and drag her towards the exit. Fun Ghoul is fast on their heels, laying down cover fire at the remaining BL/ind agents. Panicking, the Girl rips herself away from Jet and runs, she doesn’t notice that Ghoul isn’t right behind her until she reaches the Trans Am, still parked in front of the building. Ghoul sacrifices himself to give Jet and the Girl a chance to escape, locking himself in the foyer with their attackers, taking hit after hit until one proves fatal.

Thanks to Ghoul’s distraction, Jet is close behind the Girl, but they turn when they hear the doors shatter and see dracs flood out of the building. They tell the Girl to keep running. They tell her that they love her. They face the dracs with their head held high and draw fire until they stumble backwards and sprawl over the hood of the Am, unmoving. 

Standing at the curb alone, the Girl hears tires squeal and Dr. Death-Defying’s van screeches to a halt in front of her. The door opens and Show Pony jumps out, firing their hot pink ray gun at dracs as the Girl climbs into the van. She turns and catches one final glimpse of her family as the van door slides shut, Jet laid out across the hood of the Am, Ghoul crumpled by the broken doors. In the middle of the foyer, she sees Kobra’s lanky form and further back, Party where they’ve come to rest against the wall. 

The van starts to move, and from the driver’s seat Dr. D heaves a sigh. Show Pony holds the Girl as she sobs, rocking her back and forth the way Party used to when she was upset.

“It's all over, Girlie, We’re gonna take you home.” Pony says, in an attempt to soothe her.

The Girl gasps a deep breath and looks up at them. Despite the tears streaming down her cheeks, the Girl's voice doesn't shake.

“They were my home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not joking when I say this chapter took me like two weeks to write because even though I started this fic knowing how it would end I just really didn't want to kill the Fab Four.  
> Thanks for stickin' around for this one! It was definitely a bit of a challenge for me as it was super different from my other fics (at least from a writing perspective) so I hope it paid off!  
> As always, feel free to leave a comment or send an ask to my [tumblr!](sleevesareforlosers.tumblr.com/ask)  
> Thanks for reading!!

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter was pretty short, mostly because I have a full 'how the Girl came to the diner' published elsewhere in this series.  
> Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave a comment or send an ask to my tumblr @sleevesareforlosers.


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